


Heart Attack in Black Hair Dye

by Rprssd_Wrd



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brainwashing, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Kidnapping, Left for Dead, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Rating Explicit just in case, Time Skips, nothing actually happens though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-28 23:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14459859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rprssd_Wrd/pseuds/Rprssd_Wrd
Summary: This was never meant to happen, Party was supposed to be the face of the revolution, the untouchable trickster, the one who could get away with anything without getting caught, but now, this happened.What were they supposed to do?





	1. All the Good Times, They Give You Cancer

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Believe We're The Enemy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097178) by [HarlequinSmiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarlequinSmiles/pseuds/HarlequinSmiles). 



> I apologize if I got anything wrong in the general world layout, or characters, I haven't read any of the comics, so my knowledge on the Danger Days world is kind of limited, hope it doesn't bother everyone too much. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Life as a killjoy was fucking great. 

Granted, when it's described to you, it might not sound like the best, you have to run around in the scorching desert, with the sun beating you down with a temperature that would probably put hell to shame. There’s no food, you have to pray to all the gods you know to get a few drops of water, and you’re always getting chased by weirdos wearing retail vampire masks, and shooting laser guns like a lame 80s sci-fi movie. 

But goddamn, Fun Ghoul wouldn’t trade it for the world. Though, to be honest, the rest of the world couldn’t be that much better. 

Who wouldn’t love a life where there aren’t any rules, you can wear whatever the hell you want, get to speed around without having to worry about getting arrested, and your literal job is to give the major power a huge middle finger, then run off giggling like a bunch of 11-year-olds. Because, while yeah, the conditions sure weren’t anything to brag about, you got to live off the land and do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. 

“Ghoul! Get your ass over here!” 

Or, well, almost all the time. 

“Coming!”

Dropping the can of Power Pup he’d been seconds away from opening, Ghoul stepped out of the booth he was sitting in and headed out to the back room, where the Fab Four planned the different ways to be a thorn in BL/ind’s shiny, parasitic, controlling side. 

“What’s up?” He asked Jet Star, who was at the moment frowning at a map of Battery City like it’d just kicked his puppy; Kobra Kid was sitting on the couch tucked against the wall, chatting about something or other with The Girl in whispers; easily standing out with her curly hair and his bright red jacket. The afroed head of Jet Star spun around to look at Ghoul, quickly signaling him over with his hand. 

“You said you intercepted a transmission about a supply run from Bat City the other day; I’ve been trying to figure out which route they might take so we could cut them off, but I’m coming up with blanks,” Jet muttered, obviously annoyed at not being able to come up with a route by himself. 

Ghoul patted him on the back to calm him down, then hummed, thinking, “Well, they’ll probably want to stay as far away as possible from any majorly populated zone, which means that 4, 3, and 5 are a no-go, my guess would be that they’ll take the long way around through zone 6 and come out around 2.” 

That got Jet going again, with a quick ‘thanks Ghoul’, he leaned back down with a pencil, drawing possible routes with a few mutters of ‘that won’t work’ or ‘what about…’ Ghoul could tell he’d be like this for hours, and there really was no point in interrupting him, so he stepped back and moved to check out Kobra and The Girl, who still hadn’t moved from their positions in the couch. 

“Anyone seen Party?” He asked, interrupting what was probably an important discussion if the glares directed his way were any indication. 

“He said he wanted to do some shooting practice out back, probably still going,” replied Kobra passive-aggressively, Ghoul really needed to stop interrupting the conversations those two had, /Another thing I’ll probably forget/, he thought to himself. 

“Ok, cool, I’ll see you guys around then,” he turned around, just about to exit the room when a ‘Hey!’ from Kobra made him turn around again. 

“Keep your hands to yourselves, honestly, some of us could do without the noise,” he said, annoyance undertoning his voice at the end. 

Ghoul’s cheeks might have subtly gone a bit darker, but he maintained his composure. 

“I’m just gonna ask him a few things, that’s it,” he replied before quickly trotting out of the room, not wanting to talk about his sex life with his boyfriend’s brother. Although, while he was running away he thought he heard whispers of ‘that’s what he always says’ from a disgruntled Kobra. 

\---------------------------------

 

Stepping out of the backdoor led Ghoul to their improv shooting range, consisting of whatever random junk they could find out in the desert, unceremoniously placed at different distances from the standing point, which was an old plate of metal they’d ripped out from a broken-down BL/ind car. 

And right there, in all his glory, was the one and only Party Poison. 

His red hair contrasting nicely with his Dead Pegasus jacket, narrowing down at those feminine hips, and ending with an ass that probably had a reputation all on its own; Ghoul honestly had to take a moment to think about how lucky he was that /this man was his boyfriend./ 

Speaking of which, he should really milk this opportunity. 

Party was still focused on the targets, not having noticed Ghoul coming out, or sneaking up behind him, so of course when he got tackled, he did the reasonable thing in this situation.  
He turned around and punched Ghoul in the crotch. 

“Motherfucker!” Ghoul half-groaned, half-yelled, before gripping his damaged area and collapsing to the floor. 

“Ghoul?! HOLY SHIT! I’m so sorry!” Party yelled before kneeling in front of Ghoul and, without a better idea, hugging him. 

“Fuck, Party, you didn’t have to punch so hard…” Ghoul muttered, weakly slinging an arm around him in a crappy return of affection. 

Party scoffed, “Well, next time, think twice before you try to approach me from behind, you’re lucky I didn’t shoot your dumb ass.” 

“Hey, I’ll have you know, it’s a great ass,” Ghoul replied, standing up now that the pain had dissipated a little bit. 

“It is, but seriously, next time, use a little something called common sense, I think you might’ve heard of it somewhere,” Party followed, grinning. 

“Nah, and if I did have it, it died with the Helium Wars,” this time, Ghoul didn’t let Party reply with his sass, instead kissing him hard and fast, quickly stealing any breath he still had with his tongue. The shocked little moan that followed made Ghoul forget any pain that he still might’ve been in. 

“So, I was supposed to ask you about something, but I forgot what it was,” Ghoul panted when they broke apart. 

Party let out a breathy chuckle, “Classic you, with that bad memory,” he leaned down to Ghoul’s ear, nipping at it, “Need me to remind you?” he muttered, voice suddenly dropping a whole octave, and damn, Ghoul’s pants were tight. 

“Last time I checked, the Trans-AM needed some repairs,” Ghoul’s fingers tugged at Party’s red locks, making him emit a sound that would put all the strippers in the world to shame. “I think we should go take care of that, don’t you think?” he growled. Party nodded desperately, desperation filling his pretty, hazel eyes. 

“Let’s go then,” Ghoul all but shoved Party into the nearby Trans-AM, closing the door behind them. 

And when they came back two hours later, all disheveled and looking like they’d just been in a fistfight, Kobra just narrowed his eyes at them before shaking his head, tugging at his gloves, and slipping his sunglasses on.


	2. Never Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the heartache commence.

After checking Dr. D’s broadcast for any possible patrols that might get in the way of their heist, and actually fixing the Trans-AM, they’d decided that, even though it was a pretty harmless run, they’d keep The Girl home with Kobra for protection, since the more space they had, the more stuff they could carry back to the diner. 

With all the arrangements and preparations out of the way, Jet, Party, and Ghoul boarded the Trans-AM and started it up, driving out into their planned out route, the car kicking up dust clouds as they picked up speed. 

Poking his head out of one the windows, Ghoul was instantly barreted with warm air, making his hair whip, this was common routine whenever they travelled anywhere, it always made him feel like he was invincible, nothing could touch him like this, it was like the wind blew away any worries he had, making him cheery, filled with adrenaline, he let out a loud ‘Whoop!’ followed by a laugh, it helped prevent him from getting hyperactive, and it was a 100% guarantee that everyone else would also find it fun. 

Sure enough, the second he let it out, he could hear Party’s trademark laugh from the driver’s seat, and even though he couldn’t see it, he knew Jet was grinning, he considered it his superpower, being able to make others laugh. 

He kept his head out for a little bit longer before his head started to warm up, so he sat back down, took out his blaster, and began twirling it around as a way to pass the time. 

\----------------------------------------------

Eventually, they arrived at the spot Jet had marked on his map, and Party parked the car behind a tall line of boulders, large enough to hide the Trans-AM, while Ghoul and Jet got out, getting into lookout positions, trying to see if they could spot any upcoming BL/ind vehicles coming their way. 

They didn’t have to wait long, soon enough Jet Star was yelling at Ghoul to shoot at the white vans in the horizon, that was enough of a command for Ghoul, centering his gun to one of the vans’ tires, he fired, hitting his target spot-on. The tire blew out, sending the van crashing into its companion, the driver tried to steer away, but two more quick shots from Jet and Ghoul ensured that the front tires in both cars were disabled, forcing both vans to a stop. 

Running in the direction of the vans, Ghoul could see Party running ahead, quickly shooting both drivers, and opening one of the side doors, getting ready to loot as much as possible. 

Except there weren’t any supplies in the van. 

To Party’s credit, he had incredible reflexes, quickly shooting the first two Dracs in the head, then dodging to the right in order to avoid being charred to bits by the wave of blasts that followed. Unfortunately, even Party couldn’t move faster than light rays, and even from this distance, Ghoul could see Party flinch and jolt when one blast graced him on the shoulder, and another hit him on the leg. The scream he emitted was enough to make Ghoul himself grit his teeth in agony. 

He didn’t stop, however, and kept charging forward, roaring and letting his finger loose on the trigger, not even caring that he was hitting more of the van than Dracs, he had to get them away from Party, otherwise, he didn’t stand a chance. 

Ghoul turned his head back to Jet, who was charging behind him, rays also spewing out of his gun, although probably hitting twice the number of Dracs than Ghoul.

“We have to get them away from Party!” He yelled at Jet, who nodded in response, before shooting even more furiously and moving to the left, drawing as many of the masked parasites away from the redhead. 

Seeing an opening, Ghoul bolted forward, moving as fast as he could to Party, who was still lying in pain on the floor, though Ghoul could see him struggling to get up. He slid to his knees next to him, hooking his arms around Party’s middle and trying to lift him up. 

“Come on Party, you can do it, I know you can… this is nothing,” he grunted, struggling to lift his boyfriend off the ground. Party let out a small whimper that betrayed the agony he was in, Party never made any noise, no matter how hard you hit him. Ghoul could hear the grunts of his fellow Killjoy to his left, and a quick glance showed him that Jet was utterly outnumbered, blaster lying in the sand, and being restrained by four Dracs. This spurred Ghoul’s efforts into frantic, probably doing more harm than good, but he couldn’t process that, the only thing he could think about was getting Party safe, then incinerating every single Drac that was unlucky to be in Ghoul’s vicinity. 

 

Then the second van opened, and the one person in all the zones Ghoul never wanted to see face-to-face even at the best of times. 

Korse. 

The bald exterminator was flanked by another squad of Dracs, and Ghoul felt the small amount of hope that had begun to grow in his chest instantly combust. He could see Party’s face pale even more from the corner of his eye, and he was pretty sure that his face was an exact copy.

The cocky grin Korse had on his face made dread and rage fill the pit of Ghoul’s stomach, and at this point, he couldn’t which one of the two was making him tremble. 

Fighting his urge to run as far as his legs could take him, Ghoul stood protectively in front of Party, pointing his blaster to Korse’s arm, knowing it was futile, but wanting to be the image of revolution that the zones pictured him to be. 

The exterminator stopped about 4 feet from Ghoul, and spoke in his grating voice, which (if they got out of this alive) was going to give Ghoul nightmares for weeks. 

“Well, well, the infamous Party Poison, Jet Star, and Fun Ghoul, to what do I owe the pleasure?” The cocky tone in his voice made Ghoul let out a feral growl, it wasn’t enough that he had three of them cornered, of course, the bastard had to glorify it. 

“Just trashing some Dracs, it’s pretty fun ‘cause of how easy it is, but I guess that’s a given considering that you’re the one leading them,” Ghoul retorted, not really wanting to, but he let his mouth run whenever he was nervous, and goddamn if he wasn’t panicking internally. 

And just like that, the grin on Korse’s face twisted into a rage-filled grimace, and /Yep, that was a stupid decision/ Ghoul thought, getting ready to be blasted to pieces, instead, however, Korse let out a chuckle that fooled no-one, and pulled something out of his pocket, Ghoul couldn’t really tell what it was, since his hand was covering almost all of it, but it looked like a small, metallic sphere. 

“Funny then, how the three of you are stuck here, completely at my mercy, where’s the Kobra Kid? Or that rat you call a girl? Hiding, I’m assuming, or maybe they finally had enough of you and scrammed,” Korse bounced the sphere in his hand a few times. “Don’t bother answering that, I’ll catch you all eventually,” with that, he tossed the sphere, it landed right by Ghoul’s foot, and the next thing he knows, his entire body is enveloped in pain and Ghoul is screaming, convulsing, before collapsing on the floor, twitching with the aftershocks. 

Ghoul could briefly register Jet grunting, before a loud thump sounded, then it was quiet, and Ghoul hoped against hope that he was just unconscious and not dead, but then Korse walked up to Party’s limp body, and, forget Korse’s voice, this was what was going to give him night terrors for /years/. 

Korse gripped Party by the hair and held his head up so he could whisper something in his ear, Ghoul had no idea what it was, but it made Party’s eyes widen in terror, the next moment, Korse is handed a syringe by one of the Dracs, and is plunging it into Party’s neck, his eyes close, and his head goes completely limp, falling to the ground when Korse lets go. 

He signals to some Dracs to pick Party up and carry him to the less damaged of the vans, which was suddenly repaired (looking back on it, Ghoul realized that some of the Dracs had been replacing the tires while they were fighting), he then turned to Ghoul, who was still slightly twitching from the shock the sphere had given him. 

Korse gave him a horrific smile, filled with sadistic joy, knelt down next to him, and whispered something that turned Ghoul’s insides to liquid. 

“Say goodbye, desert rat, cause this is the last time you’ll see Party Poison.” 

With that, Ghoul fell into unconsciousness. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Ghoul didn’t know how much time he’d spent unconscious (the sun was setting, so it must have been a while), but after being startled awake by Jet Star, and with the memories rushing back to him, he didn’t even have to ask, Jet’s face was enough to let Ghoul know. 

Party was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had lots of free time on my hands so, here you go, another chapter, don't get too used to it, chances are there are gonna be plenty of long breaks between chapters since I have exams coming up. 
> 
> Also, I realize that the whole kidnapping bit is really similar to HarlequinSmiles' 'I Believe We're The Enemy', but I don't really know how to change it. 
> 
> Constructive criticism and Kudos are always welcome. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and stick around for more. 
> 
> Chapter title from 'The Ghost of You' by MCR


	3. Coming Apart at the Seams

Ghoul was silent throughout the ride back, staring blankly out the window, Jet had glanced at him worriedly multiple times on the way back, obviously thrown off by how uncharacteristically quiet Ghoul was being; at one point he’d even asked him if he was okay, which after receiving no response for two whole minutes, Ghoul could hear him mutter an _‘Of course you aren’t’_ , under his breath. 

Obviously not. 

It was bad enough that they’d been outsmarted and ambushed, but they’d been mocked and played with by Korse, and worst of all, they’d also taken Party right under their noses. 

Party, the red-headed flame of color, revolution, and life. Not to mention Ghoul’s whole world. 

The whole Zones were going to be thrown out of the precarious balance they’d spent _years_ establishing, all the gangs that had beef with each other were gonna start tearing each other to shreds, Dracs were probably going to start pouring in from everywhere, thinking that they owned the place, and for the first time since the whole fiasco happened, Ghoul thought about Kobra and The Girl. 

“Fuck!” 

The random outburst startled Jet, which made him swerve unexpectedly to the right, as he struggled to pull the car back to its original route, he risked an angry glare at Ghoul, he was the most careful driver out of all of them, so now on top of everything, Ghoul just pissed him off, _Not important right now._ he thought to himself.

“What the hell Ghoul?!” Jet snarled, and wow, he knew Jet would be mad, but not _that_ mad. Ghoul sent him a puzzled glance, he then realized that the whole thing probably had Jet just as stressed as Ghoul, he forgot that the afroed Killjoy and the redhead had been friends and Zonerunners long before Ghoul ever came into the picture. 

Just as this thought crossed his mind, Jet let out a low sigh, before shaking his head. 

“Sorry, I’m just on edge, fuck, everything’s already going Costa Rica, and Party hasn’t even been gone a whole day.” Ghoul sighed despairingly, he was right, the lead Killjoy was essential to the group, not only was he the only one who could pull together a half-decent plan, he was the best shot out of all of them, and was always the one who could come up with agreements when gangs decided to fight each other. 

But Party wasn’t only the mediator between gangs, he was the glue of the Fab Four. 

He and Jet were on some kind of unique wavelength when it came to music, the two just instantly knew what melody would go well with which lyrics, and vice versa; him and Kobra obviously needed each other, they were brothers, and had one of the best relationships Ghoul had ever seen in his whole life. Party was also the closest thing The Girl had to a dad, all of the Fab Four loved her with all their hearts, but Party was always her first choice whenever she was curious about something, wanted to show off an accomplishment of hers, or had a nightmare; Ghoul had woken up multiple times in the middle of the night and seen The Girl snuggling up to Party, tear tracks visible on her face. 

And then there was Ghoul. 

Hell, there weren’t words to describe how badly Ghoul needed Party, the redhead leader was Ghoul’s anchor, when his whole world had been turned upside down with the Killjoys’ revelations about Battery City and what happened there, Party had been the only one that didn’t crowd him, or tried to force him to understand. 

He’d been patient, answering any questions Ghoul had about life in the Zones, teaching him how not to die, how to shoot, the importance of colors, of being yourself, and not letting people change you. 

If it wasn’t for Party, Ghoul would still be Frank Iero; mindless, confused, scared, Frank Iero. 

Just thinking back to his old life, -a life filled with pills being choked down to drown out the pure fear of having your door knocked down by Dracs, of being dragged to the clinic, where the white rooms forced screams out of you until your throat bled, where death was the best blessing you could be offered, and changed you all the way to your core- made tears spring to his eyes, tears that he quickly wiped away, not wanting the other Killjoy to see him cry. 

Just in time too, since he could see the outline of the diner ahead, Jet pulled over, but neither he or Ghoul stepped out of the car just yet. They both took deep breaths, steeling themselves before looking at each other, understanding flashing in both of their eyes. They sat in silence for a few more seconds, before Jet broke the silence:

“Should you tell them? Or should I?” 

“...I’ll start, but you’re gonna help.” 

“Got it.” 

Ghoul opened his door and stepped out, closely followed by Jet, they walked up to the diner and opened the door. Instantly walking in, Ghoul noticed The Girl sleeping in one of the booths, surrounded by crayons and paper. That’s about the only thing he sees before a very pissed-looking Kobra runs in front of them. 

“Where the hell have you been?! Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone?! We were fucking terrified! We thought you’d been taken by some Dracs or something.” 

Seeing him so pissed made Ghoul feel worse, literally anyone who lived with Kobra for a week could tell that his anger was just his go-to emotion when he wanted to hide how he really felt, and worry was hiding in the twitch in his jaw, and the creases under his eyes. 

“Sorry Kobes, things… didn’t go according to plan,” Ghoul muttered, his gaze instantly shifting down to the floor. He could see Kobra’s left foot tapping nervously. 

“What do you mean, ‘didn’t go according to’-”, Kobra trailed off, and it seemed like he just noticed that the crew was one crucial member short. 

“Where’s Party?”

The silence that followed made the blonde Killjoy more and more hysterical, becoming more pressing and slowly increasing his volume. 

“Ghoul, where the goddamn hell is Party?! Is he out there with supplies? Is he injured?! Move over, I gotta check on him!” The blonde tried to lunge forward, but was caught by Jet, who held his struggling body tight. 

“Kobra, he’s gone.”

That response startled the Killjoy still, his eyes widening before he started to struggle and jerk around with vigor, trying to push Jet off. 

“YOU’RE LYING! YOU’RE FUCKING LYING YOU LIARS! WHERE IS HE?!” Kobra pushed and shoved Jet, flailing around purposelessly. 

“Kobra, KOBRA! LOOK AT ME! He’s gone! Korse took him!” Jet yelled at the other man, forcing his teary eyes to look at him. 

The revelation breaking through the Killjoy, he stopped fighting, breaking down into quiet sobs that racked his whole frame, he slumped into Jet, no longer able to hold himself up. 

Jet held him through the whole thing, and though Ghoul tried not to notice, he could see Jet crying quietly too. 

“He can’t be…” Kobra gasped out, still trying to fight the inevitable, there was no way his brother was gone, and honestly, Ghoul couldn’t believe it either.   
This was never meant to happen, Party was supposed to be the face of the revolution, the untouchable trickster, the one who could get away with anything without getting caught, but now, this happened. What were they supposed to do?

Ghoul couldn’t answer that at the moment, he was too confused and tired, so he did the only thing he could. 

He knelt down next to his crew, wrapped his arms around them, and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God (or should I say Destroya, eh? Okay, I'll stop.) bless my school and Labour Day for giving me a day off, so I can actually give you more of this thing pretending to be a fic. Also, yay, I finally got the hang of HTML text. Also also, I listened to Disenchanted whilst I was writing this, the tears lasted for hours.
> 
> Like usual, Kudos and constructive criticism are more than welcome. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Chapter title from 'Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes' by FOB

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, so I'm not a very experienced writer in any field, so apologies if this was bad, but I wanted to add something to this fandom because I love Danger Days with a passion, and I find there's not really that many works with Funpoison, but I hope that this convinces you to stick around and check out some of the other stuff that will be coming out. 
> 
> The update schedule is gonna be weird as all hell, so be prepared for long pauses between chapters. 
> 
> Fic title is from 'Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back' by MCR


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